


The Bet

by H4T08



Series: Behind the Door [9]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Betting, Episode: s02e07 Parturition, F/M, Hair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 15:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11992176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/H4T08/pseuds/H4T08
Summary: Shaking his head, he quickly thinks of another solution. “How about we make a bet. If I win, you cut your hair and keep it for three days. If you win, then I leave your hair alone and will transport down to the surface with Neelix to find food.” At her silence, he holds his hand out and asks, “Do we have a deal?”Biting her bottom lip, she slowly says, “It depends… what’s the bet?”





	The Bet

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place pre-'Parturition', the episode where all anyone can think about is why Janeway has her hair shorter. 
> 
> Italics implies character's thoughts.

Thumping the edge of the PADD against the heel of his palm, Chakotay makes his way to the Captain's quarters. With an important report on the new dilithium crystals they had discovered to give to her as well as informing her of the shortening food supplies, he all but takes off with a run when the turbolift doors open.

_Not to mention that she invited me to dinner at the end of our morning meeting_. All day, he has been curious as to why she asked him out of the blue. An hour ago, he chalked it up to it being a reward for him following her rules to the T.

No goo-goo eyes or groping her in public areas of the ship – mainly the bridge.

Yet, if he were being honest with himself, it wasn’t hard to. He just acted himself and made sure to keep his wondering eyes in check. He has caught himself on many occasions staring at her ass when she was standing in front of him on the bridge. _In my defense_ , he silently claims, _she has a great ass and what normal, hot-blooded male wouldn’t look… especially if she was leaning against the railing that separated the helm from the rest of the bridge_.

Shaking his head of that delicious thought, he once again takes pleasure in the sight of two crew members who were once at odds walking and talking in peace with each other. It always lifts his spirits when he sees cohesion taking place right before his eyes.

Stepping up to her door, he rings the chime and waits for her to admit him in. Hearing a faint, “come in” and feeling the quiet rush of the door opening, he steps in to find that she is sitting cross-legged on the couch already engrossed with a PADD in her hands.

Holding up his own, he grins, “Another one to add to the pile, except, this one you might want to read in place of the one you have. It’s B’Elanna’s report from her experiment on how the sample from the warp core is taking the new dilithium crystals we discovered on that inhabited planet two days ago.”

Reaching her hand out to take it off his hands, she says, “Yes, I’ve been waiting for this report for a while now.”

Slightly mesmerized at the sight of her hair, which is cascading over her shoulders, he loses his train of thought for a brief moment. Since the two times he had seen her hair plastered to her neck and shoulders from being in the shower when he came to her quarters, he has had the pleasure of imagining a different, more exotic, reason as to how he can untangle her hair from her restricted bun. He hates that she keeps it tightly up, but understands the reasoning why. _I’m sure it can be rather bothersome_.

“Commander!” Seeing his hazy, dream-filled eyes return back to the real world, Kathryn smirks as to what naughty things he could have been thinking about. “May I please have the report?” Holding up her tired arm, she wiggles her itching fingers for this particular PADD.

Shaking his head of the scandalous thought of her on top of him with her wild hair covering her shoulders, he gives her his best smile - dimples and all - to cover up the arousal tinting his cheeks. Handing her the PADD, he mutters an “I’m sorry” before he goes on to explain, “It’s not looking very promising. Twice she’s had to discontinue the experiment and start from square one.”

Reading over the chief engineer’s words, she mumbles, “I can see why, though I’m not surprised. We are not in dire need of dilithium crystals, but it wouldn’t hurt to have some backups when we are this far away from Federation space.” Frustrated, she throws the PADD onto the coffee table in front of her. Clasping her hands, she stretches her arms high above her head. Feeling her vertebra crack back into alignment, she slowly swings her neck around in a full circle.

Completely enraptured by her methodical movements, he licks his dry lips and quietly informs, “I also talked with Neelix just before I went to Engineering and he told me that they are starting to run low on food supplies. He says that there should be a few M-Class planets coming up within a few days and that we should stop by to fill up our food reserves.”

Uncurling her feet and placing them on the ground, she slowly stands and nods her head. “Very well, I’ll inform Mr. Tuvok to start some long-range sensor scans of any of the planets within our upcoming path.” Blindly reaching behind her shoulders, she expertly begins to piece her hair back together with a few of the bobby pins from the table in front of her.

Not wanting to have her hide her hair away just yet, he quips, “You don’t have to put your hair up on my account. I am actually enjoying seeing it down.”

“I bet you are,” she murmurs under her breath. Rolling her eyes, she settles on putting half of her hair up and says, “It’s rather annoying, especially when it catches static from the couch or my clothes.” Placing her last pin in the twisted tendril, she winks at him and slyly soothes, “But, I shall keep it like this just for you.”

Bowing his head, he graciously says, “Why thank you! I feel as if it’s my reward for not making goo-goo eyes at you on the bridge.”

A small giggle escapes from between her lips. Shaking her head, she asks, “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

With eyes sparkling in jovial mirth, he secretly murmurs, “Never!” Holding up his finger, he interjects, “However, I can be made to forget from time to time… with a price, of course.” A naughty grin flutters across his lips.

Rolling her eyes, she sarcastically mumbles, “Let me guess, a make out session.”

Showing the full effect of his dimples, he dramatically shrugs his shoulders, “You said it, not me.”

Rolling her eyes to kingdom come, she lightly slaps his shoulder as she passes by him to get to her replicator. Peeking over her shoulder, she asks, “Would you like to have dinner, **Chakotay**?,” heavily emphasizing his name instead of his rank.

“Why I would love to, **Kathryn**.” Bowing his head again, he slinks around and slips into one of the chairs at the dining table. Having no qualms about staring at her in the solitude comfort of her quarters, he gladly takes in the delicious curves of her back and ass. Resting his chin in the palm of his hands, he memorizes every tiny movement of her hips. Silently cursing the creators of the Starfleet uniform, _it under appreciates the female form immensely_. Though, if she had on something more form-fitting than what she has on now, he would be unable to perform basic bridge tasks - _hell, I wouldn’t even be able to perform any task for that matter_. Seeing her turn her hips towards him, he straightens his back to look at her with a mischievous grin adorning his face.

Squinting her eyes, she places his plate in front of him and mumbles, “You look guilty.”

Deciding not to reply, he picks up his fork and instantly digs into his food.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she joins him and quietly begins eating her meal.

After a few bites, he curiously asks, “Did you always have your hair this long?”

Taking a sip of her water, she nods, “For as long as I can remember. My daddy always wanted to see it down and my momma liked to brush it at night.” Her eye glazes over in the memory of simpler times. “After my daddy died, my sister wanted me to cut it, but my momma nearly had a heart attack when I told her what I was going to do. So it’s stayed like this since then.” Stabbing at her food, she mutters, “I hate it, but I don’t want to disappoint my momma.”

He wanted to say that her mother was far away for her disapproval to reach her ears, but at the last minute thought it was a disheartening thing to say. Instead, he stayed quiet and played with his glass between his fingers.

“I did cut it once,” her eyes gleamed with the same mischief he had a few minutes ago, “my sister dared me to cut it and I did. Yet, right after I felt so horribly guilty that I used the follicle regenerator and grew it back.” Closing her eyes, she sweeps her head side to side, imagining the freeing weightless feeling.

Watching her, he smiles an easy smile as an overwhelming urge to make her happy presses against his throat. “I dare you to cut your hair.”

Blinking her eyes open, her brow furrows in more of a curiosity than anger. “Why?” Rolling her eye, she shakes her head and answers instead of waiting for his response, “No. No, I made a promise to myself to keep it like this until we reach Earth and with nothing short of my hair setting on fire, I’m going to keep my promise.”

“You are so stubborn.” Shaking his head, he quickly thinks of another solution. “How about we make a bet. If I win, you cut your hair and keep it for three days. If you win, then I leave your hair alone and will transport down to the surface with Neelix to find food.” At her silence, he holds his hand out and asks, “Do we have a deal?”

Biting her bottom lip, she slowly says, “It depends… what’s the bet?”

Taking a moment to think about it, he looks towards the ceiling for inspiration. When it hits him, he glances back at her and slyly grins, “We have to correctly guess the whereabouts of Tom Paris.”

Pressing one of her eyebrows down as she ponders the possibility, she slowly asks, “But what if neither of us guesses correctly?”

Simply shrugging his shoulders, he answers, “Then you keep your hair long, I will stay on the bridge instead of going planet-side with Neelix and we can get quickly down to business with making out.” Wiggling his eyebrows, he silently thinks that it’s a win-win situation for both of them.

Leaning back in her chair, she crosses her arms along her chest. “How do I know that you won’t be cheating?”

Dramatically pointing at his chest, a look of pure innocence crosses his features, “I’m your first officer. I would never let you **not** trust me.” Despite his theatrics, he would never give away the perception of untrustworthiness, both professionally or personally.

Taking a moment to think about it, she reasons what’s the worst to happen. Capturing his outreached hand, she squarely says, “Deal. I think he is in the holodeck at Sandrine’s.”

Thinking about the young officer’s routines and habits as of late, he slowly says, “He’s already been burned by the Delany sisters.”

Shocked at this news, Kathryn interjects, “By both of them?” At his nod, she just silently shakes her head with a whispered ‘damn’ under her breath.

“I’ve noticed that he’s been sweet with Ensign Monroe.”

Again, she can’t help but call out, “From the same department as the Delany sisters?” Rolling her eyes, she just shakes her head as he once again confirms her question.

“So I think he is at her quarters.” Folding his arms across his stomach, he serenely smiles.

Staring at him for a solid minute to see if she sees any hint of deception, she then shrugs her shoulders and calls out, “Computer, location of Mr. Paris.”

Chirping in her crisp, clear voice, “Lieutenant Paris is located in Ensign Monroe’s quarters.”

“Shit!” Ducking her head, she refuses to look at him for the longest time. She made a promise to herself and she was going to break it from gambling on a bet. Yet, the prospect at having that weightless feeling of her hair cut up to the tops her shoulders makes her stomach tremble in anticipation. Shoving the last remaining food into her mouth, she quickly stands and looks to Chakotay. With a flick of her finger, she beckons him with a soft, “Come here.”

Curiously as to what she wants, he stands and follows her as she makes her into her bedroom. Stepping to the side of her as they enter her bathroom, he is surprised at how small it is. Yet, after staring around, he notices that there is a large bathtub taking up most of the space. _To each his own_ , he shrugs.

Going through one of her drawers, she pulls out a hair tie and a pair of scissors. Turning, she hands him the scissors and then pulls out the pins from her hair. Running her fingers through her scalp, she ties her hair back at the length she wants it cut at. Staring at him through her reflection in the mirror, she smiles, “You get the honors.”

Glancing down at the scissors, an irrational fear of messing up runs rampant through his mind. _What if I fuck it up_?

“You won’t fuck it up,” she murmurs, as if she had read his mind. “I’ll fix it so that it can look presentable for the three days I’ll have it.” Giving him an encouraging nod, she adds, “Cut it right above the tie.”

With shaking hands, he opens the scissors and places it where she told him to cut. Grabbing the bottom half of her hair, he squeezes his eyes shut just before he slices through her hair. Opening his eyes when he feels the hair trickling over his knuckles, he takes a look at his work. Her hair rushes around her neck, but as far as he can see it was a clean, even cut.

Threading her fingers through the ends of her hair, she tilts her head side to side, silently asking for the scissors with the flick of her hand behind her shoulder. Cutting a few odd, stray pieces here and there, she then turns and does the same with the back of her hair. Setting the scissors down on the counter after she turns back, she laces her fingers through all the strands. “You missed your calling.” Staring at him through her reflection, she grins, “You should have been a hair stylist.”

Giving a slight nod, he jokes, “It’s a far less dangerous occupation then rebelling against a fascist and murderous regime.”

Laughing under her breath, she lightly says, “Probably would have gotten laid more.” Biting the bottom of her lip, she twirls around and leans against the tall counter. Shaking her head side to side, she sighs, “Do you like it?”

Mesmerized by the playful sparkle in her eyes, he deafly reaches out to take the silky ends between his fingers. Pushing her hair behind her ear, his thumb traces along the line of her cheek as his tone becomes more serious, “Very beautiful.”

Staring at each other with enough electricity to power the ship for its entire trip back to the Alpha Quadrant, the small space between them heats to a hypnotizing level as he takes a step closer into her personal space. His breathing becomes shallow as her heart beat races to new levels. Both are silently thinking - praying - for no interruptions through the comm system.

Enticing each other to take the reins in this new adventure, he takes the challenge to go further by bringing her chin towards him and sweeping his lips along hers. Its brief contact breaks down the crude barriers built from a hesitancy to go beyond shameless flirting and rocked them into pure, carnal eagerness of what can become of them if they take their relationship to the next level.

Finding herself selfishly wanting more of the tingly feeling he leaves on her skin, she pushes her body against his by wrapping her arms around his waist and deepening their kiss.

Letting the feel of her body do amazing things to his imagination, he cradles her jaw with both of his hands as he presses her against the counter with his hips.

Getting lost in the blissful moment of having the affections of another man in her arms, the thought of Mark treacherously leeches onto her mind and refuses to let go. Leaning out of their embrace, she dips her head and presses it against his broad chest. Catching her bereft breath, she pushes off of him and takes a few steps past him. Still refusing to look at him, she mutters an “I’m sorry” under her breath.

Shaking his head, he tries to reach out to keep their connection alive. When she consciously slips through his grasp, his hands dejectedly fall to his sides and he grumbles, “No, I’m sorry. I got caught up in your hair and I couldn’t stop myself.” Turning to fully face her, he adamantly adds, “I want to keep kissing you, but we will take this at your pace.” At her persistent silence and refusal to even acknowledge him, he whispers, “I will see you tomorrow morning. Good night, Kathryn.” Slowly making his way out of her bathroom, he hopes beyond hope that she will stop him, but as he reaches the coolness of her bedroom, he knows without a doubt that she is going to let him go.

Marching out of her quarters disheartened, yet thrilled at this new turn of events, he wonders if she will keep up her end of the deal or cower to what she knows best. Again, hoping that she will follow through on her bet, his logic reasons that she would never allow herself to be seen with her hair that short.


End file.
